White Lies
by SaxonnyRETURNS
Summary: AU Darcy/Loki: Darcy is asked to pretend she's Jane for a weekend. Its the same weekend Loki shows up. At a remote cabin in the woods. During a storm. Where they are trapped. A few white lies can't hurt...
1. Chapter 1

"Venti white chocolate mocha no foam extra whip, please," Darcy rattled off to the barista, needing – no – aching for that first jolt of caffeine so she could properly start her day. Caffeine...sugar...caffeine. Whatever, right?

The mornings were almost too much to take since her relocation to New York City from their quiet little research lab in the desert. Darcy was used to getting out of bed and being the only one awake...fixing a pot of coffee and listening to podcasts while entering data collected the night before by Dr. Foster. It was quiet...serene...not this honking, yelling, shuffling, noisy hellhole.

"One VentiWhiteChocMochaNoFoamExtraWhip-" the half-sleeved half-shaved head too cool for school flannel wearing but not ironically barista called out in a bored voice.

Pushing her lips out in a semi-pout, Darcy briefly contemplated if she could pull off that look.

Nah...she had the whole broke as shit and definitely not done ironically mismatched multi-layers thing down. Why change it up now?

She stepped forward out of the throng of half-asleep commuters when her phone blaring Jane Says by Jane's Addiction. It had seemed an appropriate ringtone for her boss at the time. It was getting her more than a few annoyed looks.

"Hey Jane," she managed cheerfully as she could at 7 a.m. "I'm heading in right now."

"Hey Darcy. Change of plans. Can you come up here?"

Jane Foster was at their extended research site in the backwoods of the Catskills. Thing about charting those stars she studied...had to be way out in nature to see them. New York was a new development that meant their grant came through and they could play with the big boys now with a shiny HQ and everything. Darcy grabbed her coffee, took a big swig and grimaced. Burned tongue. Smooth, Darce. "Need my savvy 'puter skills to graph some breakthrough?"

"No. I just...how soon could you get here?"

It was a good thing Jane couldn't see Darcy's face, or her raised eyebrow and half raised lip. Good thing her boss was also a decent friend or she'd be cranky.

"Seriously, what am I supposed to do up there? I'm just a paper pusher."

"Best one this side of the Mississippi, don't count yourself short. You know no one else on the planet can read my writing."

"It _does_ suck."

"Darcy!"

She was already out on the street, heading back to her tiny walk up. She'd never been to the Catskills site before but she knew it was a sleek little cottage, it was way the hell far and gone from any cafe, and she definitely needed to pack her wool socks. And charge her phone.

"What! You don't pay me enough to lie to you."

"How soon can you get here?"

There was enough agitation in Jane's voice to make Darcy frown. "What's the rush, boss lady?"

"I...can't really explain over the phone."

"So email me."

"Reception is kind of bogus up here."

"Greaaaaat." Bye-bye, facebook updates.

"Listen here's the thing...I'm not going to be here when you arrive."

Darcy stopped short in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Are you telling me you want me to drive, by myself, to the middle of the woods, to a cabin that I might get lost going to and won't have reception in?"

"Pleeease, Darcy?"

Other pedestrians were now pushing past her, muttering about tourists. Darcy was too busy concentrating on connecting Jane's words to her alternating nervous and cajoling tone. She stared at the morning sun glinting off the windows of an apartment building.

"This isn't about work, is it?"

"Ummm...it is, kind of. I won't be here and that's why I need you here. We're getting daily readings and I really need someone here to record them. Keep everything in order. It's nothing you haven't done before."

"Well..." Darcy was already back at her tiny, cruddy studio and digging for her overnight bag, but that didn't mean she couldn't rub the guilt in just a little bit. It might earn her enough money to afford her very own Kuerig. Oh sweet, sweet Kuerig.

"I swear I will explain everything to you when I see you. I'll only be gone a couple of days, I promise."

A deep mumbling from Jane's end of the call caught her attention and Darcy strained to catch what was going on. That. Sounded like a _guy._ Excitement grew. Intrigue! Drama! Blackmail!

"Oh and Darce one more thing? If a man named Loki comes around...tell him you're me."

"WHAT? No! Why?!" This day was getting stranger and stranger.

"I told you I'd explain later. Just...do me this favor?"

Of _course_ she was going to do it- Jane Foster was the poster child for playing it safe WHILE having a stick up the butt. Asking Darcy this favor was so far out in left field from what she had known of her boss in the last two years that there was no way she was going to miss out on this little adventure. Usually it was Jane who was picking up Darcy's messes. "I dunno, _Dr. Foster,_" she drawled, "this sounds like personal stuff, not work. My pay grade does not include pretending to be an astrophysicist."

"Would a raise bring your job duties up to impersonation?"

Darcy grinned. Kuerig, here I come. "Yes. Yes it would."

"Done. Thanks Darcy, you're the best."

"I know. So who is this Loki guy? Bizarre name."

"He's tall and British...he'd stand out like a sore thumb. He's a smooth talker; just try to get rid of him if he shows up."

"Does he know what you look like?"

"I doubt it. I don't do the facebook thing, remember? And we've never met. But I just-" Jane cut off and Darcy heard more baritone whispering. "Listen Darce, I gotta go." Jane hesitated again as if debating with herself. "I don't want to tell you too much in case he does show up. Just make sure he believes you're me. Just for a day or two. And keep collecting that data."

"_Ja, mein fueress."_

"Drive carefully. It's supposed to snow."

* * *

She was never, ever going to agree to help Jane out _ever _again.

In fact, if she lived through this, she was moving to Mexico where it never snowed, where deer never almost impaled themselves on her beat up station wagon, and where she could drink rum out of coconuts and be served by lovely nubile men.

"That's Tahiti, not Mexico," she muttered.

The sublime flatness and heat of the desert was one thing; staying focused long enough to navigate the icy and getting icier by the second twisting back roads was setting Darcy's teeth on edge. Her beat up tape deck was the only thing keeping her sane right now. If she was going to go down, she was going to go down listening to the strains of Take On Me.

Darcy squinted out the snow-flecked windshield and prayed that one: she didn't miss the turn off for the site because if she did, she would be driving around in wilderness until the gas tank ran out and then it would probably wind up in some weird Deliverance meets Saw type scenario...two: no more patches of black ice after that lovely one near Woodstock thank you very much.

She grumbled to herself as she navigated the road.

Her trusty overnight bag wobbled in the passenger seat as the car slipped to and fro. It held a couple days worth of jeans, band shirts, and the only two sweaters she owned. Its not like she had needed them in New Mexico. She had a sneaking suspicion that her sneakers were not going to be up to the task of...you know...protecting her feet if it continued to snow like it was.

"It might snow my ass."

Before she shoved her antiquated mix tape in the tape deck, the spotty radio reception was broadcasting warnings of a blizzard. Considering she had never seen one, Darcy was having a hard time deciding if this was yet another media blitz to scare up business at supply stores, or if it was going to wind up like the Donner party.

Every minute she spent peering through the drifting snow was convincing her it was going to wind up like cannibal city.

"Top o' the world, ma!" she muttered, trying not to let the low-hanging sun make her nervous. If she had to drive in this shit in the dark, she was going to go crazy.

...crazi_er_.

Whatever.

There, on the side of the road, she saw the sign for the Westchester Observatory. Sweet baby Jesus. Praise Buddah. Praise Allah. Thank you Tom Cruise.

Ten minutes of sneaking along at a snail's pace-

_-seriously, don't snow plows make a stop out here-_

-and Darcy was pulling to a stop in front of the quaintest cabin she had ever seen in her life. Behind it, barely made out through the top of the trees, was the edged dome of the telescope.

"Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore."


	2. Chapter 2

Darcy lay in the narrow bed listening to the wind.

_This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea._

It was a mantra she couldn't stop saying.

_You hate the noise of New York, you can't stand the quiet of nature. What's the deal?_

Yeah, other Darcy argued, except that wind be HOWLING. And even though she resolutely kept her eyes closed, she could just imagine how much snow was falling with it.

The observatory and its living quarters were so isolated; it really was a jarring change from New York. Even in New Mexico the research team had always kind of been together, hanging out, mapping data, supergluing Dr. Foster's coffee mug to the desk...this was just...

...lonely.

Lonely was not a term Darcy used very often. Maybe it was just the comparison from how her day started to how it was ending that was so unnerving. The absurdity of Jane's request loomed over her and it made her feel more lonely. Which, she kept telling herself resolutely, was stupid. Even when she was the most alone, she always had herself. And usually her trusty ipod.

Darcy's eyes popped open. Ipod. Get the ipod.

She swung her fuzzy-sock covered feet onto the wooden floor and shuffled from the small bedroom, across the main room, to retrieve her baby. Popping her ear buds in, she scurried back to the warmth of her bed, listening to the soothing strains of Beta Band.

It quieted her brain enough for her to sleep.

* * *

Up at dawn, forcing herself to keep her routine despite not having an actual agenda to work on. Coffee maker good, pretty Jane who thoughtfully restocked the pantry. Happy Darcy, who settled in to crunch numbers at the workstation that spread out in an alcove off the main room. Typing in data was like meditating; it allowed her brain to wander while her fingers flew across the keyboard.

How bizarre that she would have found not only a steady paycheck, but on top of that, work with a team she enjoyed. Darcy had always seemed, well, a little off in everything she did. Choosing clothes, choosing men, choosing a stupid Poly Sci degree when everyone knew that meant she'd have to teach and with her tendency to ramble would have made that a disaster for all involved.

It wasn't until her senior year when she had applied for a research job to score some extra dough that she found something she could actually see herself doing. Dr. Foster was NOT one of the world's leading astrophysicists, but if this project panned out she might be in a couple of years. Jane Foster was NOT like other doctors she knew but that was why Darcy liked her. Like...genuinely liked her...enough to commit fraud, in any case. The woman was less than a decade older than her but she was also the sweetest and passionate person Darcy had ever met. That was enough to keep her in Dr. Foster's employment when she was transferred across the continent. Degree be damned and full speed ahead.

It was still snowing outside. The floor to ceiling windows that made up one wall of the cabin were mostly covered in blowing snow and beautiful ice sketches by Mr. Jack Frost himself. Yeah, there was only one bar showing up weakly on her phone but it was enough to keep Darcy mentally stable.

For the hundreth time she wondered about Jane's weird request. Jane had called after breakfast to make sure Darcy was okay but other than exchanging pleasantries and reminding her to keep the data accurate, she was just as evasive as she had been the day before. And that was very un-Jane-like.

Jane was stable. Jane was open. Jane fell hard for one thing and one thing only: her work. Any possible relationships that had come across her path were second to the research. So possible relationships, no matter how nerdy or hunk-o some of them were, usually went bye-bye within weeks. Hell, Darcy was one of the only people to have any staying power in Jane Foster's life, and that was because she showed up on time, made a fuckgood cup of coffee, and could decipher Jane's elusive handwriting.

Jane was the exact opposite of Darcy. Which is probably why they worked so well together. It was Marxist philosophy (thank you very much Poli Sci degree) : opposites attract. Darcy was taller (by a skosh). Jane was tan, Darcy never got far away from pale white. Jane had brown eyes, Darcy had blue. Jane's honey brown hair was always immaculate. The second weather of any kind hit Darcy's dark brown curls they rioted. Jane was built like a ballerina. Darcy stopped jogging in the fourth grade, after the twins showed up. Jane was Anne Taylor, Darcy was thrift. Jane was Ivy League, Darcy was community college. Jane was the straight man, Darcy was the laugh track.

Darcy leaned back from the console and stretched, the aforementioned twins straining against her flannel. Good thing she was so well adjusted or the comparison to Dr. Foster might have gotten her down.

Pouring another coffee and munching on peanuts, Darcy sat back down to finish the last of the data entry.

The point she'd been musing about was that Jane was so practical that doing the one thing...THE ONE THING...she had never done before (ditch work) meant that there was some shit going down for one Dr. Foster. And the fact that Jane deliberately ignored Darcy's not-so-innocent query into who she was with smacked of intrigue in a romantical nature.

That must be some dude to make Jane Foster forget about her precious data.

Darcy's fingers paused on the keyboard and her brow furrowed. Maybe she was putting too much weight on Team Mysterious Boyfriend. Maybe she was kidnapped and being held hostage. Maybe there was some serious espionage shit going down. Maybe that was why she was asking Darcy to pretend to be her.

…

Nah.

Darcy flipped through the last of the notes and hit save. If there was one thing she didn't doubt, its that Jane would put her in deliberate harms way. Despite the insane drive up here and the building weather, keeping continuity on the data flow had been Jane's first priority. So yeah, the snow was falling. So yeah, they were whining about a blizzard. This cabin was not a backwoods cottage it was a scientific retreat. It had a back up generator. There was a ham radio somewhere and although Darcy didn't know how to use it, she had seen the movie Frequency so she'd figure it out if it came to that. There was plenty of coffee, hard goods for consumption, so there was nothing to worry about.

Darcy shrugged her coat on and flipped her hair from under the collar.

Oh yeah. Except for that Loki guy. Jane had asked if Darcy saw anyone this morning, but Darcy had dismissed it as frivolity: no one was going to be traveling much if the snow kept falling. Why would Jane think some dude with a weird name was going to show up? And to pretend that Darcy was Jane if he did? That was the one thing she couldn't decipher. Was he an adversary? A competitor? Was she supposed to stall him? Lord help her if he was another astrophysicist; the second he brought up quasars she would be revealed a

s the charlatan and chemistry class drop out that she was.

Darcy took a quick walk around the perimeter of the building. The snow was falling pretty heavily but the wind had died down for now. Her car was just a lump of snow along the side of the driveway.

She scowled. Her raise just went up by two bucks an hour. That was going to be shitballs to dig out and she knew it.

The observatory was about a mile from the main road, and about five miles to the nearest excuse of a corner store. It was pretty small for a research facility; Darcy could lap it in a minute. It was just a basic woodsy retreat; two tiny bedrooms for visitors, a half-decent bathroom with actual water pressure, and a large main room with a fireplace, bookshelves, the work alcove, a tiny tv/vcr combo, and a kitchen built all along one wall. The telescope was housed in a small shack (cough-observatory-cough) with a cute little tin plated dome. Most of the data was transmitted to the main cabin from there. Darcy didn't need to touch or adjust it; just write down what it spat out. Done and done.

Darcy enjoyed milling around outside for a bit. There was so much movement to look at with so much snow falling, and yet it was so quiet. How weird. How wonderful, she marveled. Maybe Jane would let her spend Christmas up here. It would be fun to actually have a white Christmas for once. A Yucca plant with a tin foil star was not going to cut it this year.

Unfortunately, no one told her the difference between wet and dry snow. So she realized, belatedly, that one: her winter coat was not waterproof and two: she was getting drenched. Plus her toes were cold. Plus she couldn't feel her cheeks.

The warmth of the cabin was a welcome relief. Darcy stripped off her coat, punched 'play' on her ipod and plugged it into her portable speakers. Portishead quickly filled the room and Darcy toed off her shoes, her socks, and padded into the bathroom. Shower time, shower time. Then maybe grilled cheese and tomato soup while watching Sleepless in Seattle time.

The sounds of the shower and Wandering Star drowned out the sound of the approaching motor.


	3. Chapter 3

It was only after a serious steam session, a thorough scrubbing of her curls, and a few moments of inspecting her stubbly knees from an inch away and wishing she had thought to bring a razor that she turned the shower off.

And heard a distinct thumping that was not a part of the bass line of Portishead.

Adrenaline kicked in. Darcy grabbed her glasses, wrapped her hair in a turban and shoved her still damp t-shirt and jeans on, sans bra or undies. Her glasses were fogged so her approach toward the door, where the now furious thuds were becoming more rapid, was slow. She hit the pause button on her music, which made the pounding stop for a moment before it resumed at a harder pace. The whole cabin seemed to shake, and Darcy dug in her bag for the only thing she could think of: mama's little helper.

Otherwise known as her taser.

A string of profanities that followed the latest volley of pounding made her blush and clutch her taser tighter. Shivering ridiculously as the cool air in the main room made her damp clothes even more uncomfortable, Darcy tentatively approached the door.

"THOR! I know you're in there! OPEN UP!"

Always go for the cheap surprise, Darcy sternly told herself, and yanked the door open abruptly.

She caught the man with his hand raised in the air, about to launch into another volley. Steam was coming out in clouds from his mouth and nose, and if the angry look on his face could materialize itself, steam would be coming out his ears as well. Jane told her she may expect him but Darcy still thought he was most _unexpected._ The initial fury on his face made him seem like a predator but her sudden appearance dissolved the pale hardness into the surprise of a young boy. Snow clung to his wool cap that spiky strands of long black hair poked out from under. His dark green parka made him impressively broad. His towering height came from legs that went on forever in well-worn denim, and Darcy would lay five to one odds that half the pounding came from kicks from his mountain boots on the door. So...stranger had a temper problem.

"Lay off, wouldya?" she gasped as the freezing air outside hit her, making the cabin seem like a sauna. Her teeth chattered, her hair was a thick lump of rapidly forming ice on the top of her head, and her toes were going to turn blue if this guy did not immediately turn around and leave.

The surprise was leaking out of his face and his composure was regained. He raked his jade-colored eyes from the top of her turban to her cherry-colored toes. It lingered long enough around the twins to make Darcy both blush and scowl as she remembered she was without underthings, and in a damp t-shirt. In the cold. He lowered his arm slowly and cocked his head to the side. The sincerity of surprise was replaced fully with shrewd calculation. He glanced back at the massive 4x4 he had driven, and turned his face up to observe the heavily falling snow.

She crossed one arm over her chest, blocking him from entering and keeping the taser out of sight.

"So," he said, his accent so posh she could almost feel it against her skin, "You must be Jane." He finally turned back to her and this time there was a leer on his face. "The latest conquest."

Oh fuck. Right. She was supposed to be Jane. Which meant this long, tall, drink of British water must be-

"You must be Loki."

Score one for Darcy/Jane! The look of shock on his face was double from her initial door scare. Oooo, and now those elegant eyebrows that had gone up were now coming back down in his own scowl. So he was expecting Jane...and someone named...Thor...weird...but he was _definitely_ not expecting that he would be called out.

For how big a tantrum he had thrown, he was disturbingly formal. "May I come in?"

"No." Darcy shifted her hip against the door, recalling every trick in the diplomatic book about body language to shut this dude down and send him away. He looked...slick. And sharp. And dangerous. That, with the accent, was not a good combo for Darcy and she was not Darcy, she was Jane now. So...let the games begin. First goal: see how far she could go without actually telling a lie.

"I need to speak with Thor."

"Thor's not here." Not a lie.

Loki threw her a look that called her stupid without moving his lips. "I need to speak with him."

"I'm telling you, he's not here." Still not a lie.

"Jane-"

"Loki-" she intoned, trying to be both mature and firm while her hair dripped down her back and her teeth chattered.

"Please?" His face was lowered but his eyes were raised to meet hers; it was halfway between puppy dog eyes and the cat who shit out a canary two hours after the bird cage was found empty. This guy was good and he knew it. So very not good.

"No. Go away." She started to close the door and that's when his composure broke.

"I don't have time for this," he muttered. All six and almost a half feet of rage pushed past her into the cabin. Darcy stumbled back, watching him in amazement as he strode the length of the cabin, throwing doors open and calling the name 'Thor'. He stalked past her a couple of times, deliberately ignoring her. Well screw that!

On his next pace around the room, she stomped directly in front of him. _"Hey!"_

"Where's Thor?" he demanded, his accent distorted in frustration. Darcy backed away from him on instinct. Only a minute with him and she saw him be two different people: the diplomat and the spoiled brat. The latter was scaring her with his temper.

"I don't know."

"Will he be back?"

"I don't know!"

"Liar-" he hissed, and grabbed her free wrist.

Okay, enough was enough. Darcy jerked herself free and whipped her other hand from behind her back, the one holding the taser. "I said go away! She drew herself up to her full five and a half feet and pointed it at Loki.

The man actually had the temerity to laugh. "You can't be serious," he drawled, and took a step forward.

Darcy fired and two electrodes followed by night night juice hit him right in the chest. The man's spine went stiff, he did a quick jittery dance, and fell forward over the back of the couch, hitting his head on the end table in the process.

Darcy stood in the center of the room breathing heavily, shocked beyond belief no pun intended thank you very much. Every gasp in was followed by a 'whoa' muttered on exhalation. Finally her brain caught up with her itchy trigger finger and she scrambled around the couch.

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit."

She stood above him and gaped at what she had just done.

He lay face down, his body still giving tiny jerks and twinges every few moments. The wires connecting him to the taser were buried beneath him but leaving them on couldn't be that good, could it? What if he was bleeding? Maybe she should turn him so he could breathe better.

No Darcy No! Do NOT feel bad for the random dude that tried to break into the cabin while she showered. No! Bad girl!

That thought spurred her to action. Darcy grabbed her phone and her backpack and locked herself in the bedroom. She punched in Jane's phone number at the same time as digging through her clothes for some clean unmentionables and something warmer to wear.

Un-fucking-believable. It was ringing through to voicemail.

"Hi you've reached Dr. Foster. Please leave a message at the beep."

Beeeeeeeep.

"Hey Jane," Darcy drawled while trying to pull up her panties. "So yeah thing is...Loki showed up. Aaaaaand I may have killed him. I don't know. I definitely tased him, I know that much. So...any info on whether I need to call an ambulance...or the police...or a young priest and an old priest...would be really helpful." She dripped as much sarcasm as she could into that last bit. "Oh yeah, and call soon because, you know, approaching blizzard and everything." She paused. "God, where the fuck are you? What am I supposed to do now?"

Darcy hit End Call and stood forlornly for a moment in the chilly bedroom in her panties.

What was she supposed to do now?


	4. Chapter 4

First Loki was aware of temperature. Namely, that he was hot. It was such a discomfort that it started his brain down the road to consciousness.

Then came the pounding in his skull.

Finally, when he reached that place halfway between awake and asleep and he tried to move, he discovered that his entire body _hurt_.

Like..._really_ hurt. Like he'd actually tried to compete with Thor during their morning workout routines. Which was silly; he hadn't been able to surpass that lughead in anything physical since the sixth grade.

He couldn't help the groan that escaped as he tried to roll over enough to sit up. Loki swayed upright and looked around.

He was in a large room of gleaming wood, on a couch that he wouldn't have seen fit to give to his mother's dog. It looked...sat on. In some places the dark red fabric actually looked...worn. Which meant this was not home. So where was he? And why was his thinking so muddled?

He buried his head in his hand. His muscles were sore. His bones were sore. Hell, his teeth were sore. What-

"We got off on the wrong foot."

There. That husky voice. _That _was a voice he _remembered_. Not many people told him 'no,' and this voice _had._

Slowly he raised his head and saw her.

More clothed than before, she was wearing gray leggings, scuffed sneakers, and-

"That's Thor's sweater," Loki croaked. Thor had been here. Thor had been here long enough to do something that involved taking off his sweater.

At that thought, Loki shifted on the couch and unzipped his jacket. Ahh, that was better. Much cooler. It even cleared his brain enough for him to notice his cap was askew on his head. He removed that too and ran a hand absently through his hair. Stuff was hurting less. His eyes narrowed at the offensive woman standing before him.

The woman plucked absently at the hem of the blue cashmere with the hand that was not pointing a taser at him. It was five sizes too big for her. She shrugged sheepishly and it slid down one shoulder. One flawless shoulder.

Loki blinked a couple of times to clear his brain further. Good Lord, was he so hard pressed he was starting to notice Thor's spoils? His gaze zeroed in on what she was clutching.

"Did you...tase me?" he asked incredulously.

She flashed him a half-smile. "Like I said, we got off on the wrong foot, what with all that breaking and entering and tasing stuff. Do you want to try again?"

But Loki couldn't get over that last bit. "You tased me."

"You broke into my house!"

"You _tased _me!" he snarled. "Don't you have any idea who I _am_?"

"I don't give shit one about who you are, guy." She grimaced. "Loki," she amended. "You could be Jesus Christ, the last lord and savior, you still do NOT break into a house in the middle of nowhere and grab a girl, dude. Do _not._"

The utter temerity, the sheer indignation of it all had Loki rising as she finished and was met with a wiggle from the taser is his direction, a jutting chin and flashing blue eyes.

"I _said _let's try _again_. We can start fresh or I find out what this thing can do at full charge." Now her eyes were boring into his almost desperately. "I really do prefer trying again. And not holding grudges, I am way big into not holding grudges. Especially when I don't have snow shoes. Not that not having snow shoes would stop me from trying to make a getaway if I had to drop you again but...you know..." at this she trailed off almost nervously, like she was afraid of saying more. The taser, which she had been waggling for effect during her speech and was making him quite nervous, grew still.

At the mention of snow, he grew sober. "Jane, is it?" Her silence wasn't helping. "How do you know my name?"

"How do you know _mine_?" she retorted, with an eyebrow cocked impishly at him. He chose to ignore her question for the time being. Softening his features, he attempted to implore with her.

"I need to find my brother most _urgently_. He is needed in the city. More urgently still as the roads are starting to be shut down."

"And your brother is Thor."

"Yes."

"Why on earth do you think he is here?"

Loki narrowed his eyes. She didn't need to know that through the years it was much easier to secretly trace his brother's movements than to ask his brother what his travel plans were. One morning he might play hooky in New York and Loki would find him through pictures online at an all night foam party in Prague. His brother loved to fight, loved to celebrate, and was the face of the family. It was Loki's job to keep tabs on him, keep him under wraps and on one glorious occasion, drug him with enough Benadryl to knock out an elephant and smuggle him out of Dubai in a horse kennel. The GPS he had hidden in Thor's car placed him here. With this woman in a secluded cabin.

"...if he has gone out on an errand...or decided to build a bloody snowman in a field for you, we need to find him. The storm is getting closer."

"I guarantee you, sir, he has not been here in at least two days. It's just me, the telescope, and mama's little helper." Another wiggle from the taser.

Loki sighed and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He counted to ten in French, then in German, and when he wasn't yet ready to speak nicely, in Mandarin.

"Do you want to count in Spanish, too?"

His eyes popped open and he stared at her.

She shrugged. "You move your lips when you speak."

"You know Mandarin?"

"I know what counting to ten looks like in any language. My parents did that with me for years."

Change the subject. Win her over. Find out what she knows. "Thor warned you about me, I take it."

It really didn't matter what Thor might have said about _him_, it was what he might have said to the good doctor about the potential merger that was scheduled for...as soon as he dug his brother out of whatever crevice he had buried himself in. Geographical or female.

Where was the imbecile? And what _exactly_ had Thor told her? Who knows what pretty whisperings that muffin head liked to utter after his passion was spent. Thor was like a dog; pet him and he would bond most affectionately...until the next bone came along. Loki was known for being the wordsmith of the family...and that also meant he knew when to cease speaking. It wouldn't occur to Thor that sweet mutterings and insider information were not the same thing.

She seemed to consider his question carefully. "I was told you were British. That's about it. But ah...I have good news and bad news."

"What is the bad news?"

"The storm's not getting closer...it's here. Level three snow emergency has been declared. While you were...you know..." she made indelicate snoring sounds. "You were out for a couple of hours. I had to google concussions and everything. I don't think you have one but you hit your head going down and I wasn't sure. But I checked your pupils and everything. I think you're okay. Do you feel okay?"

For the first time in a long time, Loki was at a loss. He had lost Thor against the explicit wishes of his father, he had been tasered, knocked unconscious, and was now seemingly trapped in a cabin in the middle of the woods with his dear brother's latest slop.

"...what's the good news?" he finally asked.

She tightened her grip on the taser, but stopped pointing it at him. "I lied. There's no good news. The radio says the blizzard is now a nor'easter. Take a look-" she gestured out to the windows.

Loki did a double take as he realized what he thought was a wall that was painted white was actually windows that were more than halfway covered in snow. From what he could see, there was no visibility beyond the first few feet. If this was a nor'easter they were in more trouble than he thought. Not only was a nor'easter a blizzard on steroids, it was everything bad about a giant snowstorm combined with hurricane force winds, a vast drop in temperature, and could sometimes-

There was a small series of crashes off in the distance, and he jumped.

"_And _it's thundering."

Finally her bravado ran out and she collapsed in a oversized green chair across from him.

"Can we start over? I'm kind of freaking out right now – it's the Day After Tomorrow outside, there is thunder snow, I didn't even know that _existed,_ I used the last bars to google that shit before my reception was wiped out by the storm, and I am trapped here with you and I'd really like to not taser you again. So you don't freak out and I won't zap. Deal?"

Loki whipped his phone out of his pocket and groaned inwardly. No reception. Just to be on the safe side, he tried dialing the home office. Nothing.

The gravity of the situation was starting to hit him. "Where's Thor?" Loki said quietly, earning him a glare and a sniffle from her.

"I told you, I don't know."

He decided to tell her. "He has a GPS in his car. It says that he is here."

Jane started, stood up and retreated to the bedroom. When she came back she was holding a small blue box with antannae pinched between two fingers. "Is this it?"

He took it from her. On the side it said Odin CommCorp.

_Dammit. _

"Where did you find this?"

"Under the bed. With this sweater."

This was too much.

As he stared at the logo on the side, whatever frustration he had felt at tracking Thor down in the middle of nowhere boiled over. Stuck in the middle of a blizzard when they were both supposed to be in their offices, in the city, tying down the biggest mergers since Microsoft and Nokia but no – Thor had the majority vote since Thor was the CEO and god help the president and their father, Odin, make a non traditional business decision like say let the more mature younger brother actually lead the company...fuck, just show up on time not covered in confetti and smelling like appletinis and now who knew where he was, this all might fall through, and guess who would be blamed?

With a roar, he threw the offending GPS across the room where it shattered against a wall. That didn't make him feel better so he kicked away the end table he had hit his head on. He had a sadistic streak, he would be the first one to admit it, and it sung at the sight of fear on the woman's face as he struck out. Jane jumped out of the way, her taser in hand and backing against the far wall as he threw the couch cushions against a lamp, shattering it, before stalking to the door of the cabin, heading outside and slamming it satisfyingly loud behind him.


End file.
